


Consequences

by SuperImposed



Series: Kinkfills: Noncon Edition [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Copulation Sheath Bulges, Indeterminate ages, Kinkfill, Mind Rape, Possibly victim-blamey, but young, noncon, remember when I used to write those, sorry - Freeform, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:46:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1706981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/SuperImposed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Spades as far as the eye can see. I want vicious, no holds barred, absolutely blackrom smut. Go go go :D</p><p>Double bonus if a rap battle is involved."</p><p>[No rap battle, sadly, because I can't rap for shit.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> http://homesmut.livejournal.com/5183.html?thread=3643455#t3643455
> 
> The first entry into the Kinkfill: Noncon Edition series, but not the first NC kinkfill I've ever done.

Hands, rough and long and stronger than they have a right to be, pin his shoulders to the wall.  
  
He rolls his torso, definitely not squirming because Dave Strider _does not_ squirm. Through near-opaque shades he glares up at his captor. “Sup?”  
  
The lanky troll laughs at that, sending Dave’s stomach down for a trip south, somewhere in the vicinity of his feet. The human has a hard time playing it cool when the juggalo leans in, grinning manically.  
  
“just wanted to thank A BROTHER FOR THE WICKED motherfucking video.”  
  
Dave opens his mouth to retort, only for his jaw to drop when Gamzee nuzzles - _fucking nuzzles!_ \- his throat. The pale Knight is involuntarily reminded of how sharp troll teeth are.  
  
“H-hey,” he mutters, and that was not a stutter because Striders simply. Don’t. Stutter. “What the fuck...?”  
  
Dave’s eyes widen behind his shades when the troll cuts off any further words with his lips and _teeth, sharp sharp sharp!_ and the human is starting to realize just how far up the creek he is.

Gamzee pulls away, deaths-head grin still in place and lips dripping red. For once Dave is struck speechless and that makes the clown glower at him. “DON’T GOT a motherfucking THING TO SAY?”  
  
And then his hands are rolling down Dave’s suitjacket and the boy is shocked to find himself crying out and actually _wriggling_ , trying to get away from the invading touch. Gamzee meets his eyes behind the shades, smirks and _laughs_ , and Dave feels a chill go down his spine.  
  
He pulls out the turntables and deuce clubs smack them away faster that he can blink. Before he can go for Caledscratch those thin hands are forcing his arms behind his back, pinioning them between body and wall.  
  
Dave shudders and tries to flex, arch his back and free his limbs while limber gray fingers twitch open each button with loving care. Gamzee croons, low in his throat, not only disturbing the teen but also giving rise to a mortifying reaction, low in his belly.  
  
The jacket is forced back and off in and instant, and the clown should not be so fast but Dave can’t even try to free his arms before they’re trapped again. He’s actually afraid now, almost keening as Gamzee’s lips claim his own again, in every sense of the word.  
  
It’s worse because now he’s _gentle_ , and that look in his eye tells Dave that he knows _exactly_ what he’s doing to him. He’s being as psychologically brutal as he is physically tender.

The dress shirt is coming undone, and Dave bucks up and tries to kick him. Gamzee’s hand slams bruisingly into the center of his chest, pressing his body into the wall. Sharp claws shred the white fabric; slim fingers haul him away from the cold metal into what could be called an embrace as the indigo binds the boy’s hands with fragments of the shirt.  
  
Dave clamps down on a hysterical laugh at the thought of Terezi’s reaction; she always did say she’d see him cry. He’s glad though, so glad that she isn’t here, although the thought sends a stab of fear into his belly as he wonders about her safety.  
  
Gamzee laughs quietly and Dave _screams_ when the troll’s gray tongue darts out and laps up the tears. The human is a quaking mess now, mind shutting down on multiple levels even before the clown shoves a hand into his pants. He’s never been touched like this, not even by himself - not with ninja-Bro in the house - and the thought is an icicle spear in his muddled brain.  
  
Dave sobs and buries his face against Gamzee’s cheek as the smirking Capricorn kneads him with a lover’s touch. His other hand wraps around Dave’s shoulders, cradling him. Dave feels physically ill while the fluctuating voice coos reassurances to him.  
  
Dave just wants to _die_ , fear and loathing at the situation merging with embarrassment at his reactions. The coolkid cuts back a mewl as Gamzee easily coaxes him into full hardness. The troll finally slips his hand, agonizingly slow, out of the slacks. Dave slumps forward, then stiffens as he feels the Capricorn unlatching his belt.

The Knight of Time tries again to stop him, stop _this_ , but the Bard of Rage just holds him close and bites warningly down on the boy’s ear. Tears slip out from under the sunglasses, splashing down the clown’s cheek and neck.  
  
The belt is off now, and Gamzee pushes him back against the wall, smirking with ease and satisfaction. Dave flinches at the sound of leather and metal striking the floor.  
  
He screams a second time as Gamzee’s hand whips up, suddenly level with his eyes, and his shades, his _shades, oh gog he’s taking **my shades**_ , and Gamzee stares him in the eye a full thirty seconds before throwing back his head and laughing. To Dave it sounds like a funeral bell and he looks away, wet eyes clapped shut.  
  
The troll strokes his cheek, obviously smiling. Dave shudders under his touch, cries out when the juggalo easily divests him of his remaining clothes. The Knight tries to kick out, stop him, slow him, _something_ , but Gamzee just uses his momentum against him, grinning all the while.

Gamzee props him back up against the wall; Dave flinches again and shudders away at the sound of overlarge clown pants sliding down gray legs. The human presses his body to the metal, trying to melt through it and escape.  
  
Dave half-moans, half-yells when he feels the troll grab one leg and pull it around a bare, bony hip, pressing their pelvises together and pinning the boy further. The human shudders at the feeling of Gamzee’s bulge under his ass. Dave summons up some strength, tries to struggle, escape his bonds. It’s futile.  
  
Gamzee curses harshly and thrusts forward, Dave moaning as his own erection brushes flesh and then hating himself for it. Gamzee grins darkly and wraps a hand around his shaft, pumping lightly, caressing all-too-gently. Dave’s head flings back against the wall. He doesn’t even notice the pain.  
  
The human expects his violator to enter him, however gently the sick pantomime dictates. What he doesn’t anticipate is the odd features of Gamzee’s bulge, a soft ridge on the underside of it opening up and accommodating him.

Dave cries out pathetically as he feels his hard length enter some kind of slick pouch, warm and wet and tight enough that he almost comes on the spot. The Capricorn thrusts up against him, and to his disgust the Knight of Time finds himself bucking up against the Bard without a thought.  
  
Soon they develop a sickening rhythm, sobs wracking Dave’s thin form as their bodies rock together in time. Words tumble from his lips; aimless “stop”s and “please”s and as the pace increases “Bro” and “help” “oh god no” “Bro please” “Bro PLEASE” “ _Bro, help, please help me!_ ” and the clown just laughs and laughs as his victim breaks down.  
  
The cry Dave gives when he comes is a plea for mercy.

Dave had been pretty sure this was as bad as it got. The sensation of being taken by force was the worst thing he had ever experienced. But then Gamzee lifted himself in one fluid motion, finishing himself solo, spraying a wall down with a throaty chuckle, and Dave realized that no, _this_ was worse. The sudden disorientation of being utterly abandoned on the floor afterwards.  
  
This was _much_ worse.  
  
No longer supported, Dave falls prone to the ground. He can’t fight off the blithe touches, too exhausted to even cry; Gamzee tenderly cleans him up, pulling the boy’s pants back on and covering his shivering frame with the abandoned jacket.  
  
“B-bastard,” Dave manages to choke out, unable to even look at the troll. He can feel cold, golden eyes on him.  
  
Gamzee just smiles, and chastely kisses the bound child’s forehead. He lays Dave down and walks away.  
  
Dave sobs.

 


End file.
